"Aren't you going to call him back?"
"No. Never."
"You're still hung up on Alfred, aren't you?"
"Of course not."
And that was all Honey could get out of her.
Jason waited two days before he called again.
This time Paige answered the telephone. "Dr. Taylor."
"Hello there!" Jason said. "This is Dr. Curtis."
"Doctor . . .?"
"You may not remember me," Jason said lightly. "I was on rounds with you the other day, and I asked you to have dinner with me. You said—"
"I said I was busy. I still am. Goodbye, Mr. Curtis." She slammed the receiver down.
"What was that all about?" Honey asked.
"About nothing."
At six o'clock the following morning, when the residents gathered with Paige for morning rounds, Jason Curtis appeared. He was wearing a white coat.
"I hope I'm not late," he said cheerfully. "I had to get a white coat. I know how upset you get when I don't wear one."
Paige took a deep, angry breath. "Come in here," she said. She led Jason into the deserted doctors' dressing room. "What are you doing here?"
"To tell you the truth, I've been worried about some of the patients we saw the other day," he said earnestly. "I came to see if everyone is all right."
The man was infuriating.
"Why aren't you out building something?"
Jason looked at her and said quietly, "I'm trying to." He pulled out a handful of tickets. "Look, I don't know what your tastes are, so I got tickets for tonight's Giants game, the theater, the opera, and a concert. Take your choice. They're nonrefundable."
The man was exasperating. "Do you always throw your money away like this?''
"Only when I'm in love," Jason said.
"Wait a min—"
He held the tickets out to her. "Take your choice."
Paige reached out and took them all. "Thank you," she said sweetly. "I'll give them to my outpatients. Most of them don't have a chance to go to the theater or opera."
He smiled. "Great! I hope they enjoy it. Will you have dinner with me?"
"No."
"You have to eat, anyway. Won't you change your mind?"
Paige felt a small frisson of guilt about the tickets. "I'm afraid I wouldn't be very good company. I was on call last night, and ..."
"We'll make it an early evening. Scout's honor."
She sighed. "All right, but . . ."
"Wonderful! Where shall I pick you up?"
"I'll be through here at seven."
"I'll pick you up here then." He yawned. "Now I'm going home and going back to bed. What an ungodly hour to be up. What makes you do it?"
Paige watched him walk away, and she could not help smiling.
At seven o'clock that evening when Jason arrived at the hospital to pick up Paige, the supervising nurse said, "I think you'll find Dr. Taylor in the on-call room."
"Thanks." Jason walked down the corridor to the on-call room. The door was closed. He knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again, then opened the door and looked inside. Paige was on the cot, in a deep sleep. Jason walked over to where she lay and stood there for a long time, looking down at her. I'm going to marry you, lady, he thought. He tiptoed out of the room and quietly closed the door behind him.
The following morning, Jason was in a meeting when his secretary came in with a small bouquet of flowers. The card read: I'm sorry. RIP. Jason laughed. He telephoned Paige at the hospital. "This is your date calling."
"I really am sorry about last night," Paige said. "I'm embarrassed."
"Don't be. But I have a question."
"Yes?"
"Does RIP stand for Rest in Peace or Rip as in Van Winkle?"
Paige laughed. "Take your choice."
"My choice is dinner tonight. Can we try again?"
She hesitated. I don't want to become involved. You're not still hung up on Alfred, are you?
"Hello. Are you there?"
"Yes." One evening won't do any harm, Paige decided. "Yes. We can have dinner." "Wonderful."
As Paige was getting dressed that evening, Kat said, "It looks like you have a heavy date. Who is it?" "He's a doctor-architect," Paige said. "A what?
Paige told her the story.
"He sounds like fun. Are you interested in him?" "Not really."
The evening went by pleasantly. Paige found Jason easy to be with. They talked about everything and nothing, and the time seemed to fly.
"Tell me about you," Jason said. "Where did you grow up?"
"You won't believe me."
"I promise I will."
"All right. The Congo, India, Burma, Nigeria, Kenya . . ."
"I don't believe you."
"It's true. My father worked for WHO."
"Who? I give up. Is this going to be an Abbott and Costello rerun?"
"The World Health Organization. He was a doctor. I spent my childhood traveling to most of the Third World countries with him."
"That must have been difficult for you."
"It was exciting. The hardest part was that I was never able to stay long enough to make friends." We don't need anyone else, Paige. We'll always have each other. . . . This is my wife, Karen. She shook off the memory. "I learned a lot of strange languages, and exotic customs."
"For instance?"
"Well, for instance, I ..." She thought for a moment. "In India they believe in life after death, and that the next life depends on how you behaved in this one. If you were bad, you would come back as an animal. I remember that in one village, we had a dog, and I used to wonder who he used to be and what he did that was bad."